I wasn’t trying to make anyone happy in the long run. I knew better.
“Hey, you.” Felicity came through the kitchen into the great room and sank down next to me, kicking off her sneakers. “How was your day?”
“It was okay. How did everything go with the proposal?”
“It was so great!” She turned to face me, sitting cross-legged. Her hair was in two low pigtails like Zosia sometimes wore, and her smile, as always, lifted my spirits. “Ellie was completely surprised, and the whole thing went off without a hitch—which is pretty impressive, considering what an elaborate scheme it was.”
I listened to her tell me how Gianni had recreated a scene from the Cherry Festival when they were teenagers involving a dunk tank and a pie in the face. “She had a bucket of fifty balls, and she kept throwing one after another, and she could not dunk him,” Felicity said, laughing. “Lucky for her, my cousin Chip Carswell was in the crowd!”
“The White Sox pitcher?” I asked in surprise. “That’s your cousin? How did I not know that?”
“Yes—he’s Frannie’s nephew. His mom is her older sister, April. And his dad is Tyler Shaw, who was also a Major League pitcher. Tyler and April are married now, but they had him when they were like eighteen and gave him up for adoption. They only reconnected later, when he was a teenager, but he was already off at college by the time you moved here.”
My head was spinning. “I guess I have a lot to learn about your family history. I never knew any of that. Carswell is a great pitcher. So was Shaw. Two of the best lefties in the game.”
She laughed. “Which Ellie was glad about, because she dragged Chip out there and made him throw for her. Gianni got dunked with every ball Chip threw.”
“I bet.”
“But it was only fair, because back when they were seventeen, Gianni dunked Ellie that many times. Then she threw a bunch of pies in his face in retaliation.”
“So where in all that dunking did he propose tonight?”
“Oh! The last ball in the bucket was a fake—it opened up like a ring box.”
“I’m impressed.”
She sighed. “It was so romantic.”
“I assume she said yes?”
“She said yes. Then he threw a pie in her face.”
I laughed, envious of Gianni Lupo’s bravado, his willingness to stage that huge production and carry it out in front of an audience. “Sounds like it was quite a show.”
“It was amazing. I also spoke to Winnie. She said your mom confirmed the engagement party for thirty people at five o’clock, the last Saturday in July.”
I grimaced. “Great.”
“Did you practice your toast yet?”
“No.” I tugged one of her pigtails. “But I did chat with the Prancin’ Grannies for seven whole minutes.”
She clapped her hands. “I’m very proud of you. Was it hard?”
“It was okay. I didn’t enjoy it, but I didn’t feel like my skin was crawling with fire ants.”
“I’d say that’s a good thing.”
“Several of them know Daphne Sawyer. Is that your grandmother?”
“Yes! That’s Frannie’s mom. She’s wonderful. She and her husband John were the original owners of Cloverleigh Farms, but they gave it to their kids, and now they live in Florida most of the year. They spend summers here, so they’re probably in town.”
“She’s likely getting inundated with calls from the Prancin’ Grannies right now. They were all very eager to establish a connection to the family. I think they’re all hoping for an invitation to the wedding.”
Felicity patted my leg again. “Just tell them it’s very small.”
“I did. They shamed me.”
“Shamed you?”
“Yes, they said this whole town is so happy for us and isn’t it just a bit selfish of me to have such a small wedding that no one else can share in the joy? They told me to think about that, and they pranced away.”
She laughed with delight. “I can picture it perfectly.”
“We’re all set for New York, by the way. Our flight leaves at eleven tomorrow.”
“What? I need to pack!” She jumped off the couch and went running for the bedroom. “How many nights?”
“Two.”
“Will I have to dress up for anything?”
“Only if you want to.”
She stopped and turned around, throwing her arms in the air. “Hutton! What are the plans? Are we doing fancy billionaire things?”